


That Girl (Is A Goddamn Problem)

by mardia



Category: Don't Trust the B---- in Apartment 23
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Pet Sociopath, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 19:44:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3393986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardia/pseuds/mardia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe gives a little shrug of the shoulders. “I’ve done a lot of things, June, you can’t just expect me to remember every man whose life I tried to ruin.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Girl (Is A Goddamn Problem)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [impertinence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/impertinence/gifts).



> Written for the excellent impertinence, and betaed by angelsaves, who is also excellent.
> 
> Title comes from the Natalia Kills song "Problem."

“Hey, June,” Chloe says as soon as June walks through the door, eating ice cream from a bowl on the couch.

June’s vision goes red, and she rips off her coat and flings it at Chloe’s head.

It falls next to Chloe over the back of the couch, and Chloe looks at June in bemusement while June yells, “Don’t you ‘hey June’ me, you know what you did!”

“Do I?” Chloe asks, elaborately casual as she gets off the couch. “What did I do today?”

“Blake, my very nice coworker Blake, nearly got deported today because _someone_ called INS and told him he was a felon here in the country illegally!”

“Did he?” Chloe says, eyes wide with false innocence.

“They thought he was a serial killer, Chloe! Blake’s from Canada, they don’t even _have_ serial killers there, their biggest issues are traffic violations and fighting during hockey games!”

“Don’t count Canada out,” Chloe says as she goes to get more ice cream. “I once had a threesome with two guys in the penalty box at a hockey arena in Toronto while I wore one of those Mountie hats. Canadians are _weird_.”

“Don’t try and change the subject with your outrageous sexual escapades, Chloe, I know it was you!”

Chloe gives a little shrug of the shoulders. “I’ve done a lot of things, June, you can’t just expect me to remember every man whose life I tried to ruin.”

“Oh my God,” June says, putting her head in her hands. “I live with a lunatic. I live with an actual crazy person.” Taking a deep, calming breath to center herself, June clasps her hands together and asks, “Chloe. Explain to me what Blake did to deserve having a SWAT team bust through our office and break his collection of NHL bobbleheads? He’d been collecting those for years!”

“He flirts with you,” Chloe says, hands on her hips, and June stares at her.

“He...what?”

“He flirts with you at work and I don’t like it,” Chloe says, lifting up her chin.

June is honestly at a loss. “Okay, one, how do you even know that? Two, it's just some friendly banter, and third, what’s wrong with me flirting with a coworker? Aren’t you the one who always tells me to have flings, go out and have that casual sex, get me some strange?”

“Yeah, but not with a _Blake_ ,” Chloe says, pulling a face like she's smelled something bad. Or as if June walked in here wearing nothing but incredibly obvious knockoffs of designer clothing. “Never date a Blake, June.”

“What’s wrong with--no, no, you’re not going to distract me here,” June says, breathing hard in and out of her nose. “Blake and I aren’t even dating, and even if we were, that’s not an excuse for you to try and destroy him!”

“I disagree,” Chloe says, blithely, and while June splutters, Chloe opens up the freezer and takes the last pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream, walking away.

“I once knew a Blake,” Eli calls out from his window. “Guy ran me over with a moped.” He considers, and adds with a grimace, “I hated that guy.”

*

Things have been weird, lately.

Well, _weirder._

June can pinpoint the day things went off the rails, even by their insane standards--they'd gone out to a club, and June had gotten wildly drunk while they partied, and if she is honest, she can't even remember everything that happened. She certainly doesn't remember why she woke up to the sight of a giant teddy bear opposite her bed, or why she had on socks with dancing octopuses on them.

She does remember being trashed, remembers leaning into Chloe’s side and saying with the earnestness of the very, very drunk, “You, Chloe--are a _psycho_.”

Chloe had looked down at her, eyebrow raised. “From you, that is not a compliment,” she’d said, suspicious, and June had just giggled.

“No, but see, you’re a psycho and you’re still my best friend. You’re my best friend and I _love_ you, Chloe, isn’t that great? Isn’t that so great and wonderful?”

“Yeah, we’re cutting you off before this gets any more maudlin and gross,” Chloe had decided, but she hadn’t shoved June off the barstool, which was really her way of saying, “I love you too.”

And so, to show her appreciation, June had leaned in and placed a kiss on Chloe’s cheek, not even caring if it got her shoved off the barstool. Whatever, she was drunk, it wasn’t like she’d feel it. Not until the morning anyway.

But, because she was so drunk, because she was so unbelievably trashed on cocktails and vodka shots and beer, June’s kiss was off-center, and she’d caught the corner of Chloe’s mouth, and for a second, all she could taste was Chloe’s red lipstick, and all she could smell was the high-end lotion Chloe stole all the time from department stores.

And when June pulled back, Chloe turned to stare at her, eyes wide.

Then she’d shoved June off the barstool.

So June had woken up the next morning expecting some form of payback--Chloe hated it when people ruined a night of fun by getting their drunk feelings over everything--but nothing. In the morning, June had come out in her new octopus socks to find Chloe totally naked, warbling to Charo while waving a giant peacock feather about for emphasis.

She was also naked, but that wasn't really a shock.

June threw out the teddy bear, but kept the socks, and figured that was the end of it.

Until Chloe started making it her life mission to ruin the life of any man June so much as spoke to.

*

This time, June doesn’t even bother waiting, she storms into their apartment and flings both of her Mary Jane heels at Chloe’s head.

She misses by a mile. Hey, June was the school mascot in high school, not an athlete.

Chloe is completely serene, even with June’s sensible shoes flying through the air. She doesn’t even spill her drink. “Hello, June. Have a good day at work?”

“Oh, I had just a lovely day, Chloe. Aside from the part where one of my coworkers presented me with a _restraining order!_ ”

Instead of showing an ounce of shame, like any rational human being, Chloe just gives her a Cheshire-Cat grin. “Mm. How is darling Chad, by the way?”

“Terrified,” June says promptly. “What did you even do to him, Chloe? I showed up at work today and HR was at my cubicle with poor Chad, who was trembling like a leaf! The company is having to pick up the tab for his therapy!”

“I maintain that night terrors are an experience every human being should have,” Chloe says airily. She heads into the kitchen to pour herself another mojito, and June follows.

“Just tell me _why_ , Chloe.”

“Because Chad is evil,” Chloe says. “Chad tried to hit on you when you were out with your coworkers for happy hour that one time, and his name is _Chad._ That’s even worse than Blake!”

June tries to follow that twisted, twisted logic, and fails miserably. “So...you want to keep me from dating my coworkers because you don’t like their names, and you’re trying to accomplish this by terrorizing them until they can’t stand the sight of me?”

“Exactly,” Chloe says with a nod.

“Chloe, that’s insane. Even for you, that is completely insane--and who says I even want to date these guys anyway? Neither of them are my type!”

“Still gotta teach them a lesson. Besides, it’s not like they’re innocents. Their names are Blake and Chad, for God’s sake.”

June stares at Chloe, her eyes narrowing. “Okay, no, what’s really going on here? You’re up to something, and I don’t know why, and I really don’t know why it involves terrorizing every male coworker who so much as says hello to me--”

Chloe’s entire face scrunches up in displeasure, and June remembers suddenly the lengths Chloe will go to avoid talking about her emotions.

And so before June can stop her, or do anything other than yell, “Chloe, no!” Chloe has set her favorite apron on fire, the one with the flower print June’s mother bought for her when she was fifteen and successfully made her first souffle.

Between putting out the fire, turning off the smoke alarm, and trying to salvage her poor apron--June’s got her hands full, and so she has no idea where Chloe is off to next. Hopefully, not to set more of June’s possessions on fire, the pyro.

*

June barely gets two steps into It’s Just Beans before Mark frantically waves her off. "June, you've got to go."

"What?" June asks, bewildered. "But Mark--"

"June, you know I love you and you're my best bud," Mark tells her, coming out from behind the counter so he can put his hands on her shoulders to try and hustle her out of there. "But right now, you're the human equivalent of smallpox. If you don't have me dying an awful death, you're definitely going to get me some nasty scars."

"That doesn't even make sense!" June tries to insist, planting her feet as best as she can in her sensible yet cute wedges. "Mark, come on--wait. Wait, is this because of Chloe?"

"You said it, not me," Mark says, and with a supreme effort June manages to twist out of his grip, whirling around to face him, jabbing her finger into his chest in a vain attempt to make Mark see reason.

"This is totally ridiculous! We aren't coworkers anymore, Chloe doesn't have some bizarre grudge against the name Mark, there's no _reason_ for her to go all scorched earth on you--"

"I'm a straight dude talking to you, that's gonna be enough of a reason for her right now," Mark says, and while June tries to process that, Mark gives her one last big shove right on out the door.

"Mark!" June protests, but it does no good, Mark's already closed the door in her face.

He waves at her through the window. "Bye, June--call me when Chloe isn't feeling so territorial, okay?"

He walks off, and June repeats in bafflement, " _Territorial?_ "

*

“Luther, I need your help,” June says on her phone while she’s walking away from the coffee shop, latte-less and even more confused than before. “It’s Chloe. She’s gone completely crazy. Well, crazier.”

“Mm,” Luther says over the phone. “Say no more, June, I have been waiting for this call a long time. Come over to James’s apartment, we’ll get you sorted out.”

June sighs in relief, but when she finally makes it to James’ apartment, things get even more bizarre.

“Turn your phone off,” Luther says, and baffled, June complies. “That’s good, now she can’t track you. Now, listen, it’ll take me a couple of days, but I can get you a new identity, get you set up somewhere nice under a new name--how do you feel about Florida?”

“What?”

Luther pulls a little face. “No? Well, how about California? Listen, honey, you’ve spent two years as Chloe’s roommate and before that you were trapped in Indiana--what you need now is to treat yourself, and believe you me, I have some connections, we can hook you up.”

“Luther, I don’t want to move out, much less go into witness protection or whatever it is you’re talking about!” June says, and it must be admitted by this point, her nerves have been pushed enough that it comes out as a shriek. “I just need to find out why my roommate is acting so crazy.”

“Oh, June,” Luther says, letting his hands fall away from his hips. “And here I was, believing you’d finally seen the light and were willing to get away from that rabid she-wolf.”

“Hey,” June says reflexively, “Chloe’s not rabid. Well, not normally.”

Luther just lifts an eyebrow and stands there in silent judgment. It’s very effective. “Besides,” June says, “--if I wanted to get away from Chloe--which I don’t--I wouldn’t have to go into witness protection. I’d just have to leave.”

“Shows what you think,” Luther mutters. “The way that girl’s been acting these days, a stun gun’s not keeping her away from you.”

“Okay, good, you’ve also noticed that Chloe is acting even weirder than usual,” June says. “Do you know why? Has James said something?”

“Oh, no,” Luther insists, putting his hands up. “I’m not getting involved in this mess. You want out, I’ve got a fake passport waiting for you, but I will not enable this--”

“Luther, can you book me a massage with Hansel?” James asks as he comes in through the front door, tapping away on his phone. “Oh, hey, June.”

He doesn’t look terrified to see her, or like he’s going to kick her out of his apartment, and so Jane takes heart, and presses her hands together as she pleads, “James. Help me understand what’s going on with Chloe.”

To his credit, James doesn’t play dumb. Instead he just chuckles ruefully and says, “June, I’m sorry, but there’s no way I can get involved here.” He points a finger at Luther and says, “And you shouldn’t get involved either, please don’t tell me you were trying to get June a new identity and whisk her away from Chloe--”

Luther is totally unrepentant. “I am trying to do good works here. This poor girl is _clearly_ a victim of Stockholm Syndrome and I am just--"

“Have you thought about how if you succeed in getting June away from Chloe, that just means more time for Chloe to hang out with me and therefore make your life miserable?” James shoots back, eyebrows raised, and Luther pauses.

"Sorry, June," he says after a second, "but you are now the sacrificial lamb on the altar of my sanity. You ain’t leaving that crazy bitch."

"I don't want to leave the crazy bitch, I just want to know why she's acting even crazier than normal!" June's doing the shriek again, and with a supreme effort, she dials it back and does the only thing she can think of--appeals to James' ego.

“James,” she says, stepping forward with her hands still clasped. “I know you know what’s going on. And I need to understand what’s going on before Chloe either gets me fired or gets arrested for terrorizing every man I so much as speak to. And as her straight gay BFF, you’re the best person for me to turn to right now.” Hands still clasped, June goes for broke. “Help me, James van der Beek. You’re my only hope.”

James considers her, and then his face breaks into another rueful smile. “Ahh, you got me, June. Never let it be said James van der Beek got in the way of a happy Hollywood ending.”

“This isn’t a happy Hollywood ending, it’s a hostage situation, and neither one of you realizes it,” Luther mutters, and when James gives him another warning glance, elaborately mimes zipping his lips together.

“Okay, June. Do you remember that night last week, when you and Chloe went out drinking and you kissed her?”

“Oh my God, I knew it, I knew she’d try and punish me for getting my drunk feelings all over her,” June groans, then adds, “It was just a kiss on the cheek, really--and she already shoved me off the barstool for it! I woke up in the morning with bruises, can’t we just call it even?”

James shakes his head. “You’re not getting it. Look--Chloe’s not upset because you kissed her. She’s upset because the kiss made her realize she has feelings for you, and since it’s Chloe--”

“--and since she’s a rabid she-wolf,” Luther interjects, _sotto voce_.

“Luther,” James chides, and continues, “--since it’s Chloe and she’s basically allergic to nearly all human emotions, she’s dealing with it through her usual acts of mayhem and terror.” He looks June over, and asks, “You okay, June? You look like you’re about to pass out there.”

June attempts to speak, but the only thing that comes out is a high-pitched squeaking sound.

“Say the word, June, and I’ll have you set up in Miami under a new identity,” Luther offers, and when James glares at him, replies, “What? Look, James, I have to at least _try_ to save the poor thing.”

June squeaks again. After a second, she finally opens her mouth and is able to make words again. “Chloe,” she manages. “Chloe has...has _feelings_ for me.”

“Yup,” James says, watching her to see how she’ll react. She can’t blame him, June doesn’t even know how she’s reacting right now.

“Romantic feelings,” June says, just to clarify, and when James warily nods his head again, devolves into another squeak.

“Okay, you know what, we’re gonna have you sit down while you try and process this,” James decides, guiding her to the couch with one hand on her elbow. “Luther, can you get Chloe a bottled water?”

“For news like this, vodka would be more appropriate,” Luther says, but gets the water anyway.

June knocks back what must be half the damn bottle in one go, and when she finally comes up for air, immediately gasps out, “Chloe has feelings for _me?_ ”

“Oh, yeah. She’s pretty mad about it, too.”

That’s the only thing that makes sense, of course Chloe would be livid over developing feelings again for someone. She _hates_ feelings, she hates the people who make her have feelings-- “Wait. So why hasn’t she tried to have me deported, like she did with Benjamin? Why go after my coworkers instead?”

“That is because I am the genius who talked Chloe down from the ledge by pointing out that a) you are an American citizen and b) you have options.”

“Options,” June repeats slowly.

“It’s not like before,” James says wisely. “Before, you were a wide-eyed, naive, underemployed barista trying to make it in the big city. Now, June, you have a top job on Wall Street, you’re a seasoned, crafty resident of New York. If Chloe tries to kick you out of her life, you’ve got other options. You wouldn’t have to come back.”

“But of course I’d want to come back,” June says without thinking. “Why would I want to leave Chloe?”

James folds his arms over his chest, looking incredibly pleased, while Luther says, his voice rising in pitch until it approaches June’s squawking from earlier, “Oh, I don’t know, how about the fact that she’s a confirmed _lunatic_? My God, is the Stockholm Syndrome permanent?”

“Yeah, but you get used to all that,” June says automatically, and while Luther splutters in outrage and James tries to talk him down, June sits in her seat, water bottle in hand, and tries to adjust to the reality where Chloe--crazy, beautiful, impossible Chloe-- somehow has feelings for her, plain old ordinary June Colburn.

It’s nuts. It’s even crazier than Chloe’s attempts to get poor Blake deported, or give Chad night terrors, and the crazier part of it all is that it’s not a dealbreaker. When June thinks about it, about Chloe wanting her, caring about her, she’s not afraid or freaked out or sorry, she just feels like her heart is expanding in her chest, to the point where her emotions feel too big for her body, too vast to ever be contained.

Chloe wants her, and if there’s one thing June’s learned since she moved to New York, it’s to never let an opportunity go to waste.

“I’m sorry,” June says suddenly, a smile spreading across her face. “I have to go find Chloe now.”

Luther looks her over. “And by find Chloe, you mean go to the nearest police station and file a restraining order, right,” he says, but without much hope.

“Sorry, Luther,” June says, but the huge smile on her face probably gives the lie to her words.

James points a finger at her, looking even more pleased with himself, if that’s possible. “Ah, and there it is. There’s the Hollywood happy ending. Didn’t I tell you it was going to happen for these two crazy kids, Luther?”

“Thanks, James,” June says, darting in to kiss him on the cheek in gratitude, before grabbing her purse and running out of the apartment.

*

Chloe is flipping through a magazine when June finally gets back to the apartment. She looks totally normal, which for Chloe, means looking absolutely gorgeous and how, _how_ did June not see this coming?

“And where have you been today?” Chloe asks, cutting into June's thoughts. And June's staring.

“Oh, out,” June says, trying to keep her voice light and breezy. It must fail from the way Chloe looks up, eyes narrowed. “Hey,” June adds quickly, “So I’ve been thinking.”

Chloe’s eyes are still narrowed in suspicion as she declares, “I don’t care what you say, June, if I want to have a blood feud with your coworkers, I will, and you will just have to deal with it. Besides, I always say you haven’t lived until you’ve gotten at least one restraining order.”

“Right, about that,” June says, taking a seat next to Chloe on the couch, steadying her nerves by wiping her hands on her patterned skirt. “Not that I don’t doubt your talent for chaos, but--you know I don’t want to date Blake or Chad, right? You know that I don’t want to date anyone at work, don’t you?”

It takes everything June has not to look at Chloe’s face right now and blurt out, _I couldn’t pick any of those guys before you, don’t you know that?_

Really, June has already dumped perfectly nice guys for Chloe, and that was before she knew that anything more than this wacky, warped friendship was possibly on the table.

Not that June can say any of that right now. She has a plan, and it doesn’t involve scaring Chloe off before that plan even has a chance of success.

"You don't want to date any of your coworkers?" Chloe says, her expression still wary. "Not even the one who put himself through college by working as an underwear model?"

"Not any of them," June promises.

Chloe studies her for a moment longer before nodding decisively. "Fine, I suppose I can put my blood feud on hold. For now."

June grins at her. “Good. And listen--I was thinking that this week, we should go out. Just the two of us, out to dinner. My treat?”

Chloe lifts an eyebrow. “You’ll cover the drinks?”

“Yes, Chloe. I will cover the drinks.”

“Okay,” Chloe says with a shrug, and June beams.

*

 

They don’t even make it to the appetizers.

“Okay, what’s really going on,” Chloe says flatly as the waiter goes away with their orders.

“What?” June asks. If her voice is perilously close to a squeak, well, she can’t help it.

Chloe points at her, and says, accusing, “You’re wearing the blue dress I made you buy.”

“Yeah,” June says, trying to keep her shoulders from hunching up defensively. “You told me I look good in this dress.”

“Yeah, and you _hate_ that dress. You kept whining about how tight and uncomfortable it is,” Chloe retorts.

“I wasn’t whining,” June insists. “I just don’t see the point of clothing I can’t even breathe in--”

“So why are you wearing it, then?” Chloe asks, pouncing.

“I...figured I could break it in?”

“Bullshit, that dress isn’t a pair of shoes,” Chloe says. “And this restaurant is--”

“What’s wrong with this restaurant?” June asks. “It's really cool, and when I asked, you said you were totally in the mood for a fusion place.”

“Yeah, but this place is booked out for a month and a half,” Chloe says. “How did you even get us in?”

“I got James to pull some strings,” June admits after a moment, nervously sipping at her water. “C'mon, Chloe, what's the big deal? I wanted to have a nice night out.”

“Where you wear an uncomfortable dress, pick up the tab, and aren't even going to get laid at the end of it,” Chloe says, and June tries, she really does try, but the flush comes to her cheeks despite her best efforts.

And because it's Chloe, and she's as smart as she is crazy, Chloe sees it and cuts herself off, eyes wide.

“Chloe,” June starts, but it's too late. Way too late.

“Oh my God, this is a date,” Chloe says. “Is this a date?”

“No!” June protests, and Chloe's expression goes from shock to outrage in a blink.

“Well, what are you wearing that dress for if it's not a date? Do you know how good your tits look in that dress? What are you wasting that for, if not to try and get laid!”

“Oh my God, Chloe,” June mutters, beet-red, as she sees some of the other customers turn to stare at them. “Look, I just—wanted to spend some time with you, okay? Things have been pretty crazy lately, and I thought it'd be a good idea for us to, to connect and to discuss--”

Chloe's eyes sharpen, and she starts to scowl. “What did James tell you.”

“Nothing?” June tries, and yup. There's the squeak.

“Oh my God,” Chloe says again, her hand tightening around her butter knife. “June--”

“Okay, okay, so James might have told me something,” June says hastily, because she knows what Chloe's face looks like when she's plotting revenge, and she needs to cut this off at the pass. “But it's okay!”

“I'm going to kill him,” Chloe mutters, lifting up the knife like she's ready to start stabbing people right there. “I'm going to get him, and his little assistant too.”

“Chloe, there's no need to start channeling the Wicked Witch of the West,” June says, and Chloe glares darkly at her for this. “And really, is it so bad if I know? It's not like I want to date anyone else right now, and now that I do know, we can start--”

“Wait,” Chloe says, slowly lowering the knife. “So this _is_ a date?”

June's heart is in her throat, but she manages to gesture at herself. “Look at this dress, Chloe. Of _course_ it's a date.”

Chloe's eyes are huge in her face, and they stare at each other for what feels like forever before Chloe bursts out with, “Oh my God, why did you even take me out in public when we could be at home having sex?”

Literally everyone in this restaurant is staring at them now, and June couldn't possibly care any less. Beaming so hard her face is starting to hurt, she waves down their waitress, asking sweetly, “Can we get the check now?”

“Sure,” the waitress says, and if she says anything else, June doesn't hear it, because Chloe's leaning in over the table and is taking June's face in her hands as she kisses her, slow and deep, and June's heartbeat is pounding in her ears, drowning out anything else.

*

“I hate this stupid dress,” Chloe mutters darkly in the cab against June's throat, hands futilely trying to push June's skirt up around her hips.

“Chloe, we are not having sex in this cab,” June says breathlessly, although if she's honest with herself, Chloe's hands feel good enough on her thighs that she's almost wishing she could be convinced.

Chloe growls a little at this, and June shivers, and then actually lets out a little noise as Chloe drags her tongue along June's throat.

“Chloe, we _can't_.”

Chloe lets out a groan of frustration and pulls back, asking, “You just mean no sex in this cab, right?”

June has to laugh. “Yes, Chloe. I'm just saying no sex while we're in public. Once we're in private--”

"--we're having sex, right?" Chloe presses suspiciously. "Because if I have to put up with this 'no sex on the first date' bullshit, June, I _will_ be forced to go totally postal on your coworkers, and I'm talking outright maiming here, I swear--"

"Yes to sex," June says, and God, she doesn't even know what's happening with her voice, how it's somehow dropping an octave and getting that Demi Moore rasp to it, and she'll spend the rest of her life trying to mimic it again if it gets Chloe to keep looking at her like that. "Once we're back home, all the sex. No waiting."

Chloe just stares at her for a second, eyes huge in her face, and then turns to the cab driver. “I swear to God, if you get us back to our apartment in the next five minutes, I will pay you a thousand dollars.”

“Do you even have a thousand dollars?” June asks as the cab speeds up.

Chloe shrugs. “I can get it from James.” Then she smirks over at June. “And believe me, I plan on getting my money’s worth.”

“Please drive faster,” June tells the cab driver, and even if he’s rolling his eyes at the pair of them, June doesn’t care, because Chloe’s just found the zipper to June’s dress and is peeling it down, and June’s too busy trying to talk both herself and Chloe out of semi-public sex to pay attention to anything else.

*

Going into tonight, June had been worried about her nerves. She’d been worried about being too nervous, too awkward and unsure, about second-guessing herself and making everything weird. 

As it turns out, June’s not nervous at all. She doesn’t have the brain cells to waste on being nervous, not when Chloe has her pinned against the wall of her bedroom and is three fingers deep inside of her, thumb rubbing against June’s clit while June moans and tries to remember how English works. 

She’s doing great at the moaning. The English part, not so much.

Not that Chloe seems to mind. Chloe is a gorgeous mess right now, lipstick smeared from kissing June until June’s lips were tingling, her sleek hair mussed from Jane’s hands, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as June comes apart and comes and comes. 

“Oh my God,” June pants out, her legs feeling like jelly. “Oh my God, Chloe.”

“Yeah,” Chloe says with a laugh as she presses up against June, kissing along June’s neck and jaw. “I know.”

“Can I go down on you?” June asks, too dazed not to just blurt it out. Chloe pulls back to stare at her and June explains, stammering a little. “I’ve been, um. Thinking about it a lot since I asked you out.”

“June,” Chloe says after a moment, “not only is going down on me welcome, it’s fucking encouraged. Nay,” she adds, holding up a finger, “--in fact, it’s _required._ ”

And so that leads to June, perched on her bed, totally naked, watching Chloe slither out of her tight black dress, unhook her bra with one hand behind her back--and then it’s all pale skin and gorgeous breasts and Chloe smirking at her and she’s _naked_ and--

_Shorty got that what what, shorty got that good good, shorty got that--_

“That song’s playing in your head right now, isn’t it?” Chloe asks, still smirking at her.

“Uh huh,” June says faintly.

Chloe’s grin gets even more wolfish, if that’s possible. “Good,” she says, smugly.

*

In the morning, June wakes up to hickeys all over her neck and a naked Chloe sitting up in bed, making notes on one of June’s yellow legal pads.

“Morning,” June says sleepily, enjoying the view. Chloe’s breasts look even more spectacular in the daytime, it turns out.

“Good, you’re up,” Chloe says, still writing away. “So I had a brainstorm last night, and now I’m writing down all the sex acts you probably haven’t done, and all the locations you’ve probably never had sex in. Might take us a while, but we can definitely get through a good part of this list by the end of the week.”

June sits up a little more, craning her neck to glance at the list. “That is a long list,” she says, before conceding, “--and pretty accurate. Chloe, I don’t even know half the things listed here--”

“Oh, June, you delicate sheltered buttercup,” Chloe says, placing a hand over her heart. “This is where I come in.”

June grins. “Oh, yeah? I think I can handle that.”

Chloe looks over at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” June says, and it’s so easy to say this, to smile up at Chloe as she says, “Turns out, you’re kind of the best thing that’s happened to me since I came to New York.” 

Chloe narrows her eyes a little. “FYI, if we’re going to be doing this for real, you have to limit the sappy things you say, June. This isn’t going to be a lesbian Hallmark commercial.”

June has to laugh, because this is Chloe, so of course she says that. “You psycho,” she says, shaking her head in affection.

“Exactly,” Chloe says with a firm nod. “Now tell me what your feelings are about swings.”

June wrinkles her nose. “Like, the ones at playgrounds?” she asks, and it’s not until she pulls up her phone to do a hasty search that June realizes why Chloe’s cackling in delight.


End file.
